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Irma Gracic Nov 2016
Make me build barriers and walls,
Medieval guards would look upon,
Once the stone is risen, hardly it falls,
When it's over my head, I'm gone.
Lie to me.

Lower the temperature with your tounge,
One deegre by one until it goes,
'Till it's Northern Sea through my lung,
Across the ice, no flower grows.
Lie to me.

Destroy the morning sky with your words,
My coffee with two spoons of anger,
Better lost than lies as shepards,
Cover my eyes, be my strangler.
Lie to me.

Wash out your lips of the sugar stanes,
Dry them 'till the sweetness is no more,
Your kiss will taste like coffee grains,
Once so tired, my mouth won't be sore.
*Lie to me.

— The End —